


Lawfully Wedded Monster

by joliemariella



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: BIG monsters cuz I love that shit man, Bara Sans, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake Marriage, Monster Heat, occasional bits of action but mostly fluff and relationship building, some social commentary?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 03:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joliemariella/pseuds/joliemariella
Summary: The sudden return of monsters to the surface world nearly two years ago hit the economy of Ebott City hard, leaving thousands jobless and competing with a new influx of workers willing to do more for less money. Its economy in shambles, city government passed the 'Monster Relocation Act' that will deport any and all monsters who haven't held a job with a taxable income in the last three months. You're a struggling artist living in the monster heavy community that has come to be known as 'Little Underground' on the southside of town who steps up to try and save your neighbor, Sans, from being deported when you see him being arrested by local police like a common criminal.The catch? You have to marry him.





	Lawfully Wedded Monster

**Author's Note:**

> *sing-song voice* Like I don't have a million and one other thiiiiings to be doing right now!  
> Yeah, so this is a thing now, hope you enjoy! **Please don't ask when the next chapter will be posted**. This is just a side project I'll be updating as I'm able, NOT on a regular schedule!
> 
> Make sure to drop a review if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! I'd also love to hear what your favorite part was! Always so interesting to find out, heh.

“Oh god, they’re gonna eat me!”

“Fine by me so long as they don’t eat the hashbrowns too.”

You dropped your bag of groceries and threw up your hands in self defense as your aunt’s dogs threw themselves bodily at you, knocking you back against the front door hard enough to drive the breath from your lungs. You wheezed and tried to fend off the beasts to no avail, forcing you to drop to your knees and start lavishing them with affection before they dragged you down to do so by force.

“I don’t know, surely freeze dried potatoes are beyond even these two nuts,” you mused as your Aunt Claire’s brindled, whip thin mutt of a dog proceeded to wash your face with his long tongue, making you grimace and shoved him away. “Dammit Charlie, c’mon! I _know_ where you put that tongue, cut it out!”

‘Charlie’ only wiggled delightedly and tried to lick your hand while he was at it, but luckily you were still wearing your gloves. Granted, now they’d probably need a wash when you got home…

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” your aunt mused as she wandered in from the kitchen and grabbed her wayward pet by the collar to give you a little breathing space to deal with her other, just as excitable dog, Bella. “I caught them both chowing down on a bag of _raw_ red potatoes the other day, so probably frozen isn’t too far out of their wheelhouse.”

You grimaced at both of her dogs on hearing this news. Bella, just as much of a mutt as Charlie, though a creamy gold color to his dark brindle, panted and wiggled under your hands as you pet her absently. “That’s gross guys, geeze. Have some standards, will you?”

Your aunt snorted at the likelihood of this ever coming true, and you flashed her a smile before finally getting to your feet. Claire released Charlie, and as per usual, now that he’d tackled you the once, he resisted the temptation to do so again. Both he and Bella did their best to trip you up as you followed your Aunt into her kitchen, grocery bag of hashbrowns in hand, though.

Claire didn’t even ask if you wanted a cup of coffee, she simply poured it on reflex and handed it over for you to add cream and sugar to. She knew you too well to bother asking. “How was your week?” she asked instead with a smile as you pulled the cream out of the refrigerator and she retrieved a pan for the hashbrowns. “Get any jobs?”

“Yeah,” you told her with a smile that was made up in no small part by relief. You’d been working as a freelance artist for a few months now, and things had gotten worryingly tight more than once. Considering the state of the job market in Ebott city where you and Claire both lived, however, it was really was your only option. “Got a couple of logo designs on the line, plus some regular commissions to do after that, so it looks like I should be in the black this month as long as nothing unexpected happens.”

The smile Claire gave you then was almost as relieved as your own on hearing that you were doing okay for the month. “Good. You just let me know if you need anything.”

Knowing from experience that it did no good whatsoever to argue, you simply nodded and took a sip of your coffee before asking, “Anything I can help with?” as Claire dumped the pack of hashbrowns into the heated frying pan and flattened them out with a spatula.

“You can grab out the bacon and eggs, then have yourself a seat,” she instructed. Once again, knowing it did no good to argue when it came to the cooking, you did as you were told.

The kitchen was small, but had a nook where a little table that could just manage two sat under a window that overlooked the busy street below. Thin winter sunlight poured in past the open curtains to warm your back as you took a seat and watched your Aunt move around the kitchen.

Hashbrowns, eggs, bacon, and coffee were traditional when you went to visit her every Sunday morning, though a batch of pancakes or french toast made the occasional showing to shake things up sometimes. Claire never did let you help her cook, not because you _couldn’t_ , but because that was part of the tradition too. Plus her kitchen really was tiny. Two adults trying to move around each other and cook at the same time was a circus act neither of you enjoyed attempting, especially when you added in two dogs constantly getting underfoot in the search for scraps.

Claire’s apartment was a cozy (e.g. _small_ ) one bedroom on the north side of town, a half hour subway ride away from your own place on the significantly shadier southside. She’d moved there not long after you’d originally moved out back when you’d been holding down a steady, well paying job with benefits before the job market had crashed.

Before monsters had returned to the surface.

When your parents had died not long before your fourteenth birthday, it had been Claire that took you in and raised you as her own, despite having no real experience with children, let alone angst ridden teens that had just had their entire life turned upside down by a tragic car accident. She’d been so very patient with you when you’d been hurting, despite having just lost her only sister in the same accident. You knew you’d likely taxed her patience with your own crying and tantrums at the unfairness of life, but she’d never once blamed you, and for that you’d be eternally grateful.

As an adult, you wished you’d been able to be there more for her in that time and offered her the same shoulder to cry on she had to you, but young as you had been, you don’t think she would have, _could_ have, ever accepted.

The two of you chatted about inconsequential things while she cooked and you did your best to keep the dogs out from under her feet. When the food was done, rather than both of you try and squeeze in at the little nook table, you took your plates into the living room and settled down on the sofa to eat.

You pushed Charlie out of your spot when he jumped up before you could sit down, then seated yourself and kicked your feet up on the coffee table, as was your habit. Most of the furniture was the same from back when you’d still lived with your aunt; starting to show its age, but still comfortable.

As was _her_ habit, Claire clicked on the tv and turned it to the news. Normally she kept the sound down, using it more for background noise while the two of you visited, but today it stayed at full volume when she saw what the broadcast’s focus was.

“ _Reactions are decidedly mixed on the new ‘Monster Relocation Act’ recently passed by local lawmakers,_ ” the pretty news anchor on the tv said with an impressively neutral expression. You really couldn’t have begun to guess her personal feelings on the matter as she continued. “ _Supporters of the emergency measure insist that it is a temporary action meant to stay the unprecedented crash of the local job market largely blamed on the sudden influx of monsters when they first arrived almost two years ago._ ”

“ _Such_ a load of bullshit,” you grumble bitterly around a strip of bacon.

You didn’t disagree with the reporter’s assertion that the rather abrupt reappearance of monsters on the surface caused the collapse of the local economy; raw data supported _that_ particular fact. A tremendous portion of their population had settled right there in Ebott City thanks to its immediate proximity to the mountain from which they had all emerged, and the tax on the city had been tremendous. With no money to leave the area and settle elsewhere, monsterkind had been forced to look for work in an attempt to pay their way in this new world they had rejoined, which in turn had thrown the local economy completely out of balance. With so many extra people competing for the same number of jobs, competition had become fierce.

You’d heard rumors that some of the first monsters out of the mountain weren’t suffering those consequences, though. A handful of them had realized that the gold currency that had been worth so little in the Underground was worth a fortune on the surface and acted accordingly. Unfortunately, this had resulted in a crash for the gold market, leaving the price of the once valuable ore at record lows that hadn’t much recovered even two years later.

Plenty of businesses had refused to hire monsters at first, and while some still stuck to their guns on that matter even now, others had quickly changed their tune when they’d found that monsters were willing to do more work for less money than their human competition. You couldn’t blame them for the desperation that drove them to that point, but it had certainly fostered a great deal of resentment in the human population into which they were trying so hard to integrate.

Most days it felt like the last fifty years of progress made in the civil rights movement had been undone in one fell swoop, though now it was humans of every creed, color, and nationality turning their ire on monsterkind rather than one another.

It _would_ be mutual hate of some new kind of ‘other’ that brought the human race together, you thought bitterly as the report continued.

“ _Lawmakers cite soaring crime rates and dropping property values as further motivation for the passing of the new law._ ”

Well of _course_ crime rates had gone up with there suddenly being so much competition for legitimate work. And property values, well… you only had to look at your own neighborhood to see how that had worked out. Some days, walking down the streets around your apartment building, you can’t help but feel that the bad old days of segregation had dragged themselves back to the forefront of culture and reinstated themselves while you’d been sleeping one night.

It had inevitably been poorer parts of town that had been willing to provide housing for monsterkind. They’d been the only ones desperate enough for regular payment to open their doors to the newcomers. The fact that monsters were less likely to complain about questionable living conditions and a lack of regular maintenance made shady property owners all the happier. Granted, the side effect had been a mass exodus of human renters and a corresponding drop in property value that _kept_ the rent cheap.

Cheap rent was exactly why you now lived at the heart of what had come to be known as ‘Little Underground’ to those from the area. People who didn’t (e.g. speciesist assholes) called it ‘Tartarus’, a jab at the slur ‘demon’ monsters were so often subjected to since arriving on the surface. It was a horrible state of affairs, but considering your white collar job had been one of the first to go after the collapse, and making money as an artist was an eternal struggle, you were glad there was _somewhere_ in town you could afford to live. You certainly couldn’t afford to move to another city like so many other people you knew had, and you couldn’t bring yourself to burden your Aunt Claire by moving back in. Not only would it be terribly cramped, you knew she was living off a pension that only just managed to support her and the dogs, let alone _you_ on top of that…

“ _The new law stipulates that any monster who has not held a job within the last three months will be deported, effective immediately. There will be a temporary surge in police activity while-_ ”

“Awful,” your aunt Claire muttered fiercely, her plate of food left practically untouched over the course of the broadcast. “I swear, not only is justice not blind, she’s drunk on the job and speciesist to boot.”

You snort a little as you set aside your plate, having precisely the opposite problem Claire had. You’d scarfed down your food without even noticing while you watched, leaving you with a slightly over-full sensation in your stomach that doesn’t stop you from drinking your coffee anyways. “Business as usual then,” you mused sourly into your cup.

Claire hummed her agreement and said, “You heard about the marriage loophole that got snuck in there?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I was just talking to Katie about it the other day. She works down at the courthouse and there’s been a huge surge in human-monster marriages since the law went up for the vote. They’re absolutely swamped down there.”

“Poor dear,” your aunt murmured and took a sip of her own coffee as she sat back against the cushions of the sofa. “At least it’s _something_ for the time being,” she said with a sad sigh and you grimaced, but nodded.

It wasn’t much, but apparently a monster married to a human that had maintained a residence within city limits for the last three or more years was exempted from deportation, regardless of their previous job status. You couldn’t imagine ever being that desperate to stay somewhere, but then you’ve never been subject to the kind of hardship the monsters were suffering through either, so you could hardly bring yourself to judge.

“ _Local police are expecting a fresh wave of protests, and several officials anticipate an escalation into outright riots-_ ”

Claire finally gave up on listening to anymore of the dire broadcast and hit the mute button on the remote with a sigh as footage of previous protests held in the city flashed across the screen. You’d been to more than a few yourself, and you made a mental note to keep an ear out for any more happening in the future. “What a mess,” she muttered and absently stroked Bella’s head, which the dog had slyly insinuated onto her lap, as was her habit when you weren’t paying attention. “I wish there were something practical I could do to help; something more than just going to protests.”

You nodded your agreement, empathizing with the feeling wholeheartedly as your gaze drifted back to the tv and the anchorwoman’s frigid smile. “Yeah, me too.”

* * *

“Oh! Wait right there, I almost forgot!” Aunt Claire exclaimed just as you were about to leave a few hours later. You blinked in surprise, pausing in the middle of petting Charlie and Bella goodbye as your Aunt hurried from the room. She returned a moment later and said, “Lord help me, I just keep forgetting I found it so I can finally give it to you!”

She held her hand out, and on reflex, you accepted her offering. Something small, round, and glittering was placed on your palm, and your eyes went wide as you realized exactly what it was.

“Mom’s ring,” you murmured, feeling as though your heart just stopped dead in your chest, the breath all whooshing out of you at once. “I didn’t… I thought she’d been buried with it,” you admit, voice gone small and tight as you struggled not to tear up, eyes fixed on the familiar golden band and its single sapphire stone. Your mother never had liked diamonds, you recalled abruptly as you roll it gently between thumb and forefinger, feeling for all the world as though you had just seen it on her finger the day before rather than over a decade ago now.

A moment of silence hung between the two of you for a minute until Claire finally spoke again. “I’m sorry it took me so long to give it to you. I’d intended to after the funeral but you were so against speaking about them, let alone-”

“It’s alright,” you said hurriedly and wiped at the tears threatening in the corners of your eyes. “You’re right, I wasn’t ready back then,” you admitted because it was true. Speaking about your parents had been hard for you for a long time after their deaths, and you were glad Claire had had the foresight to keep the ring from you then. Who knew what your stupid, angsty teenage self might have done with it otherwise.

“Maybe,” she agreed with a sad smile, “But I definitely should have given it to you before now,” Claire mused. “I put it away in one of my old jewelry boxes and after awhile I just… put it out of my mind I suppose. I was so surprised when I found it while I was cleaning out my drawers a couple of weeks ago.”

You smiled wetly at her, and the woman who raised you alone for so many years immediately stepped in and gave you a tight hug, holding you as you buried your face in her shoulder and took a few deep breaths until you had yourself under control once more.

Eventually, you pulled away and the pair of you shared a weak smile and tucked the ring into your pocket, not quite able to bring yourself to actually put it on. “Well,” you said, voice stronger then than it had been, “I better get going or I won’t get any work done at all today.”

“Good luck, sweetie. Take care of yourself,” Claire said as you opened the door and stepped out into the hall of her apartment building. “I love you. Give me a call if you need anything at all.”

“Love you too, and will do,” you said and waved to her and the dogs as they watched you go until you disappeared into the stairwell down to the street.

The subway ride back to your side of town was uneventful, and it was a struggle to resist the temptation of pulling out your mother’s ring to look at it again. In the end you broke down and, after making sure the car was mostly empty and no one was paying you any particular attention, you pulled it out of your pocket. Rather than rolling it between your fingers again, after a moment’s hesitation you slipped it onto your ring finger, same as your mother had once worn it. You knew it had belonged to your grandmother, and possibly even her mother before her as well, though you weren’t quite sure on that detail. Seeing it on your own finger gave you decidedly mixed feelings you didn’t have time to work through before your stop was announced.

You arrived at the station and left the ring in place as you disembarked and started walking, accompanied off the train by significantly more monsters than humans, though they quickly dispersed the further away from the station you got.

It was a chilly day, so you zipped your coat up a little higher and pulled your hat down over your ears while you walked. You were already thinking about the work you needed to get started on as soon as you got home when a ruckus in the parking lot of the corner store just down the road from your apartment distracted you.

Blinking, you paused on the sidewalk, immediately noticing the other people, mostly monsters, hesitating nearby, all eyes on the scene unfolding at the entrance of the shop itself.

Two policemen with an aggressive set to their shoulders were staring down a large monster standing just outside the doorway, a plastic bag in each hand. “I’m gonna ask one more time,” the first officer said, voice loud and irritated. “Show us your ID or we’ll be forced to take you downtown for deportation processing.”

“i heard ya the first time,” the monster drawled, clearly just as annoyed. “and i _told_ you i left it back at my apartment.”

It hit you then that you recognized this particular monster. He was a couple inches over seven feet tall, and while that height wasn’t an uncommon one among monsters, the fact that he was a walking, talking skeleton sure was.

The monster’s name was Sans, and he lived just across the hall from you. You weren’t friends, but you liked to think that you were at least friendly with your neighbor. It was common for the two of you to bump into one another at the mailboxes down in the lobby, and you generally exchanged pleasantries then. He had quite the habit of cracking terrible puns at the drop of a hat, but you rather enjoyed his jokes. In fact, it was his sense of humor that had first put you at ease around him when you’d originally moved into the complex. You’d wound up squeezed into the elevator with him, a tight fit thanks to the rather incredible breadth of his chest and shoulders (Sometimes you couldn’t help but think he was just as wide as he was tall, though objectively you knew that it wasn’t the case).

New to the neighborhood, and on edge after receiving more than one ugly look from local monsters for your ‘invasion’ of their space, you’d nearly decided not to take the elevator at all. Your better nature had won out, though, and you’d joined him regardless. The silence in the tiny space had been oppressive...until he’d cracked a joke and gotten you to laugh in spite of yourself, immediately easing the tension in a way you appreciated more than you could ever say.

After that you’d greeted him every time you’d happened to see him, and he’d returned the courtesy. He was a funny guy, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in getting to know him a little better. He’d made no real move to do so himself, though, and not wanting to cross a line, you’d kept your interactions to small talk and well wishes.

Anger sparked in your heart at the way the police were looking at your neighbor now, and without thinking, you moved closer.

“Then tell us your ID number or we’re taking you downtown for processing _now,_ ” the second officer said tersely. When Sans didn’t answer immediately, he pressed, “Say you don’t remember it. Make my fucking day.”

You saw the corner of Sans’ mouth twitch as he stared the cops down impassively before finally saying, “3278135-S.”

The first cop, who had been quickly writing down the number on a notepad paused at the same time you did when the monster reached the letter at the end of his identification code. You remembered when the Monster Registration Act had been passed just a few months after they had first returned to the surface. Humans had been terrified of these ‘new’ creatures in their midst, and the strange powers they wielded. People on both sides of the political aisle had rallied around the idea of a registry to keep track of these new ‘citizens’ and, more importantly, their magical abilities. The very idea made you grind your teeth, but in those days there had been very little resistance, despite the lessons history should have long since taught mankind the world over…

The monsters, eager to put their new human neighbors at ease, had agreed far more readily to that act than they had this latest one, and now they were all on one big list, easily tracked by every major government in the world.

The numbers that made up monster IDs served the same purpose as any other, but the letters were a power indicator. The normal rankings were A through D, with A being the strongest, and D the weakest. C class were the most common to find in the general population, with A being extremely rare. S class, though… As far as you knew there were literally only a handful of them in the entire world, and apparently you’d been living across the hall from one of the special few all this time. The only other two that you knew of were Asgore and Toriel, king and queen of monsterkind (if in title only these days).

You stared at Sans, and the policemen seemed more tense than ever, though the first officer had kept his head enough to enter the ID into his phone which was no doubt had access to the monster registry on demand.

“Looks like you’ve been flagged for deportation, Mr. Sans,” the second officer said when his partner showed him the data that illuminated his screen. “Now get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”

“This is bullshit and you know it,” Sans snarled, the lights of his eyes flickering to the first officer’s hand as he put away his notepad and reached for the gun at his hip.

You noticed it to, and before you even realized it, you were moving again.

“ _Get on your knees_ or we’ll add resisting arrest to your record,” the first officer said as he drew his gun from its holster and gripped it in both hands, though he kept it pointed at the ground for the time being. You were glad of that little fact considering what you did next.

“Stop!” you said angrily as you stepped between the policemen and Sans, arms thrown wide. “You leave him alone!”

You couldn’t see him, but at your back, Sans blinked rapidly in surprise, completely wrong footed by this unexpected development. In front of you, both officers also looked surprised, then irritated as the second commanded, “Ma’am, step out of the way or you’ll be taken into custody for interference with a police officer in the line of duty.”

You shook your head and, mind racing a mile a minute, you said, “You can’t arrest him!”

“I said, _move,_ ” the officer repeated as he began to step towards you angrily.

“kid,” Sans said at your back, and you felt one of his huge hands land lightly on your shoulder as he tried to push you out of the way. “keep your nose out of it, i’ll be fine. you don’t gotta-”

You glanced back and up at him, head having to crane around some to actually meet his gaze, and you hesitated right up to the point that Sans’ eyelights darted to the advancing policeman. For just a moment you saw worry, and maybe even fear, flicker across his features, and suddenly any doubt you might have had on what you were about to do next disappeared.

Well, you’d wanted to help in a more concrete way than going to protests…

Sans pushed you gently again at the same moment the policeman grabbed you, but you resisted both as you lifted your left hand and declared, “You can’t arrest him because he’s my fiance!”

Everyone froze at your words, and all eyes went to the glittering sapphire ring on your left hand. Your heart was racing a mile a minute and your head felt as though your thoughts had been replaced by white noise.

Had you seriously just said that?

“You’re not serious,” the first officer said as he, to your immense relief, holstered his gun and moved closer. The look of disgust on his face brings your anger back to the forefront of your mind, the heat of it burning away your fear and surprise in the face of this uniformed opposition.

Behind you, Sans said, “‘course she’s n-”

“Of course I am!” you shout over him before he can ruin everything. You’d heard the officer, he was marked for deportation, and according to the news, there was no fighting it until _after_ you’d already been forced out of city limits. _Then_ you could appeal if you had the right documentation, but… somehow you doubted that was the case with Sans. Determined, you forced yourself to take a breath and remained firmly planted between the monster at your back, and the officers in front of you. “He’s my fiance and _I’ve_ lived in this city all my life, so you can’t have him,” you snapped as you dropped your hands back to your sides, unconsciously clenching them into fists.

You were shaking, and you know Sans can tell through his hand, which still rested on your shoulder. You felt so very _small_ next to him, you couldn’t help but think absently as the officers exchanged a look between them. The monster’s hand squeezed your shoulder lightly and you dared to glance back at him again. He was watching you with an unreadable expression, and when he saw he had your attention, he silently mouthed, ‘ _what are you doing?_ ’

You just gave him a minute smile and shook your head as you reached up and patted his hand with your left. The skeleton’s eyes were drawn to the sapphire flash of the ring on your finger and you could tell he wanted to say something, but you silenced him with a second shake of your head just as the officers returned their attention to you after conferring briefly among themselves.

“That’s great and all,” the first policeman said, though the tone of his voice told you that he thought it was anything but. “However, the exception only applies to _married_ monsters, not engaged ones.”

He moved towards Sans again and you sidestepped to place yourself between them again. “W-We have an appointment at the courthouse tomorrow, I swear!” you insisted hurriedly, sweat threatening to break out at the nape of your neck. You’d never been the type to back down from a challenge, but then you’d never really had to straight up lie to the police either, and with someone else’s fate on the line, your normally steady nerves felt frazzled and your mind was racing. You jumped when the second officer grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of his partner’s way. “Hey!” You object, and try to tug free. “Let me go! You-”

“We already told you that a fiance doesn’t count,” the man snapped and tightened his grip on you painfully, making you scowl fiercely back at him. “However,” he added in a low drawl, “if you can bring proof of your appointment at the courthouse for tomorrow to the precinct downtown by 6pm, we’ll release your...husband-to-be into your custody.”

You could tell by the dismissive curl of his smile that he didn’t believe a word of what you had said. It annoyed you, but then he was also completely right.

The sound of handcuffs clicking shut made you look around sharply towards Sans in time to see the other officer step out from behind his bulk. The skeleton had never gotten to his knees, but had willingly put his hands behind his back and allowed the officer to cuff him, the sight of which irked you on a deep, unnamable level.

“it’s alright, kiddo, don’t worry about me,” he told you and your brow furrowed unhappily as you looked up to meet his gaze. To your surprise, as the policemen started to lead him away, Sans paused just long enough to lean down and plant a kiss on your upturned brow and murmur, “thanks for tryin’ though. that was real sweet of ya.”

And then he was moving again, allowing the policemen to push him towards their car before squeezing into the back seat. As they started to drive away, you finally snapped out of your shock and ran after them for a few brief steps before stopping again, feeling frustrated and at a complete loss.

Behind you, the crowd that had begun to gather to watch events unfold dispersed once more, murmuring amongst themselves about what a shame it was. Their empty words made you scowl. They’d all just sat there and watched while someone got carted off for being unemployed and the wrong species…

You glanced back over your shoulder with narrowed eyes to glare at their retreating backs, but your ire didn’t last long. The vast majority of them had been monsters… how many were in a situation similar to Sans? Marked for deportation but not yet caught so long as they kept their heads down?

Your righteous anger rushed out of you with one mighty sigh. On the next inhalation, memory of Sans’ lips against your brow and his soft words in your ear rekindled your determination. You knew Sans had a brother that worked with the ambassador, maybe you could ask around the complex and find someone that knew how to get in touch with him. You’d never officially met Papyrus, but you’d seen him around on his visits with Sans. Sometimes he would stick around for a day or two, other times only for a few hours. Life working with the human ambassador for monsterkind, as well as the king and queen must keep him running…

Surely he could pull some strings and get his brother out of his deportation?

Even as you had the thought, though, doubt immediately began to eat away at it. _Would_ the king and queen help Sans? They had a reputation for playing strictly by the rules, following every law humankind imposed on their people, even as they lobbied hard to get them undone. With such a track record you suspected that they _wouldn’t_ help Sans. Why risk everything they worked for for a single monster, sibling to one of their employees or not?

You nibbled absently at your bottom lip, the cold air nipping at your nose and turning your cheeks ruddy the longer you stood there on the sidewalk, lost in thought.

Finally, you took a breath and resolved yourself to the frankly crazy course of action you were about to undertake. If anyone was going to to help Sans, you decided, it was going to have to be you…

God, Aunt Claire was going to _kill_ you.

* * *

It was just after four o’clock and you were pacing around your living room as you waited for a call.

Just a couple of hours before you’d been so confident when you’d called your friend Katie, who worked at the courthouse, and begged for a favor of monumental proportions. Was this too high-handed? Sans hadn’t asked for your help, after all, maybe you should just keep your nose out of it and let him handle his own business. He was an adult, after all, he probably didn’t need someone who barely rated ‘friendly acquaintance’ on the relationship scale butting in and changing the course of his life for the foreseeable future.

On the other hand, you reasoned, if he didn’t like it, he could always just not show up to the courthouse tomorrow, no harm no foul. You could say you’d been stood up or something and everyone could just go on their merry way.

Your phone rang and you practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of it before scrambling to answer it. “Hello?” you said, though you already knew who was on the other end.

“Hey, girl, I got you covered,” Katie said, sounding tired but pleased with the result of her efforts.

“Oh thank god,” you said and released a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding as you sagged down onto your threadbare sofa. “Katie you are _such_ a lifesaver. I owe you big time.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. Nothing new,” she mused and you huff a soft laugh. She was quiet for a moment, though, then asked, “But...are you sure you really want to do this? I mean, how well do you even know this guy? This is kind of a big deal, hon.”

You laughed weakly into your cheap flip phone and admitted, “I barely know him at all, actually.”

“What?! Come on, I thought you were at least _friends_ with this guy!” your friend exclaimed loudly, forcing you to pull your phone back from your face for a moment until she’d calmed down.

“We’re friend **_ly,_ ** ” you said in your defense and she snorted. “Look,” you pressed on, “I know it’s crazy but...but it’s the right thing to do, alright? There’s not anyone else who can help him right now, and you _know_ this ’relocation’ act is such a load of bullshit-”

“Alright, _alright,_ ” Katie said, cutting you off before you could launch into a full on tirade as she’d known you to do in the past. “I’m emailing you the confirmation now. You’d better get down to the precinct ASAP if you want this to work.”

You took a breath and got to your feet. “Right, thanks again, Katie. I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

* * *

You burst in through the front door of the precinct at ten til six, half sick with nerves that you’d miss the deadline thanks to the unexpected traffic that had held you up along the way. Of _course_ the one time you sprang for a cab there’d be an accident that forced you to ditch the car and walk the last mile of the trip.

Fighting for breath, you hurried to the front desk and the on duty officer sitting behind the protective glass. “H-hello!” you gasped and pushed the slip of paper proving your courthouse appointment for tomorrow morning at ten am through the slot. “I’m here to pick up my fiance, Sans. The officer that arrested him for deportation said that if I could get you a copy of our courthouse date tomorrow they’d release him to my custody?”

The man on the other side of the glass took the slip of paper and glanced over it, then turned to his computer monitor and clicked through a few windows you couldn’t see from this angle. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, though by that time it didn’t have anything to do with the exercise, and everything to do with nerves.

What if the officer that arrested Sans had been lying? What if you just put Katie through a whole lot of trouble for nothing? Then there was the chance everything would go exactly according to plan and you were about to see Sans again and find out just what exactly he thought of your high-handed manner of inserting yourself into his life…

“Yeah, alright. Give me just a minute,” the officer said and you swallowed hard, then nodded and backed away from the glass to take a seat in one of the chairs that he waved you over towards. You watched for a moment as he picked up a phone and pressed a button, then began speaking quietly into the receiver. After he hung up, you drop your gaze to the floor, one leg bouncing nervously as you waited.

It felt like forever, and yet no time at all passed between that moment and when you heard the door to the holding area click open, dragging your eyes from their minute study of the tile at your feet to the monster stepping into the lobby.

His hands were still cuffed behind his back, but as you watched, an officer, one of the ones who initially arrested him, stepped out after and removed the handcuffs. Sans pulled free of them, absently rubbing his wrists in a way that made you suspect they’d been restrained since he got in the back of that cop car hours before.

The thought made your expression sour, though another quickly overrode it. If this was the same officer that knew you’d claimed Sans was your fiance, well… just walking out of here with him isn’t going to be quite enough if you want the cops to keep their nose out of your business.

Your stomach tightened and your heart rate spiked alarmingly at the thought of what you were about to do. Still, in for a penny, in for a dollar, you supposed…

Plastering a relieved smile that was less forced than you’d expected, you got to your feet and rushed towards the skeleton. “Sans!”

He snapped around to look at you, eye sockets going wide as soon as he saw you hurrying towards them. His surprise at seeing you had nothing on what he felt when you jumped up and threw your arms around his neck (an impressive feat considering the height difference) and planted your lips squarely on his.

You didn’t linger long, but it was enough for you to register the peculiar firmness of his mouth, though you weren’t quite sure what you’d expected. After all, even if Sans looked like a skeleton, he was definitely a monster. Not just because of how large he was, but because his skull wasn’t exactly like a normal human’s either. The bone was definitely malleable for one thing, allowing for a range of expression in his features comparable to your own, as well as lips and no gap between his skull proper and his jaw. For another, the bones of his palms were plated and semi-fused, instead of easily distinguished metacarpals, and he filled out his clothes in a way that suggested the build of an olympic weight lifter or wrestler, rather than a bunch of bare bones. Even as you hang there, body pressed flush to the broad expanse of his abdomen, you could feel the softness of him, which was puzzling, but definitely not forefront in your mind at that moment.

“I’m your fiance, dammit, play along so they don’t catch on!” you hissed softly against his jaw when you broke contact.

The monster gave a start and looked down at you, expression unreadable for a moment before he slipped his arms around you, bearing your weight effortlessly and taking the strain off your arms. It was his turn to surprise you as he leaned in and caught your lips with his once more, far from a passive recipient this time. One of his hands slipped up your back to cradle your head and tilt it back ever-so-slightly, allowing him better access as his lips moved skillfully against your own. You felt his tongue brush briefly against your skin, but he didn’t push things any further than that before breaking the kiss a moment later.

“thought you might not come for me, sweetheart,” he murmured as he regarded you with heavily lidded eyes, arms still pinning you against him.

You stared up at him, breathless and completely speechless as your arms hung loosely around the heavy vertebrae of his neck. You opened your mouth to say something, then shut it again as nothing came immediately to mind, making him chuckle, a low, pleasantly rumbling sound that rolled up from deep in his chest and threatened to make you shiver at the sensation of it vibrating though you everywhere your bodies touched.

Sans flashed you a lazy grin and you went red completely against your will.

Good god, just what had you gotten yourself into?

* * *

( **AN:** Story has been Discontinued. No, I am not interested in allowing someone else to finish it.) **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed the start! Subsequent chapters will be a bit shorter since this was really to establish the story and where it's going.  
> Make sure to drop a review if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! I'd also love to hear what your favorite part was! Always so interesting to find out, heh.


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